It's Only Your Shadow
by YoukoRei
Summary: Harry comes to terms with absence.


**Title:** It's Only Your Shadow

**Author:** YoukoRei (Chrissy Taylor)

**Timeline:** After, well, the unmentionable event in OoTP…

**Summary:**  Harry comes to terms with absence. 

**Warnings:**  If you haven't read the fifth book, turn back.  If you haven't come to grips with what happened in OoTP, you might not want to read this either.

**Author's Note:**  Well, it's finally finished after much angst on my part.  

**Disclaimer:**  JKR owns Harry Potter, et al.  I just write about it.

**C&C:** Always Appreciated

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Almost every room in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was in shambles.

Ron watched in amazement as Harry tore through the massive bureau in the corner of the room.  Scraps of clothing, papers, and tattered photographs were strewn across the floor.  Every now and then, a furious mop of black hair would emerge from among the dust and robes to chuck something unceremoniously into a tattered box.

"Harry, maybe you should just give it a rest.  It's late, and mum'll be back soon.  She'll make dinner--"  Ron felt the words die in his throat when Harry turned a ferocious stare in his direction.  Startled, he watched as Harry spun around, grabbing the box.

When Harry stormed into the adjoining room, Ron let his eyes slip closed in silent defeat. 

"Is he still going at it?" Hands on her hips, Hermione surveyed the room's recent rearrangement with distaste.  Ron reached up to rub some of the tension out of his neck.

"He's nutters, Hermione.  He won't listen, he won't talk.  He just keeps throwing **his** stuff into that ruddy box."

Hermione's mouth twitched downward at the edges.  

Before she could speculate on Harry's intentions, however, his shadowed form flicked past the hallway door.  She and Ron exchanged nervous glances before following the wild fury that had replaced their best friend.

By the time they had made it down the stone steps into the main parlor, Harry was crouched over his container.  A sudden flash from the fireplace made it quite apparent what Harry had planned.

The flames danced madly around an old book, licking at its dry pages.  Ron stood back, his mouth agape.  Hermione, however, hurried forward.  "Harry!  What on earth has gotten into you?!"

"I'm getting rid of **him**," Harry said with a sneer, his fists clenched into tight balls.  "If he wants to go off and disappear, I don't want to see any trace of him here." 

Harry's face glowed with malicious intent, the flames from the burning book reflected off his glasses.  It was impossible to see his eyes.

Hermione, however, took a brave step forward, managing to conjure some semblance of her old exasperation.  "Why is everyone referring to Sirius as 'him'?  He wasn't Voldemort!  You should say his name when you talk about him!"  

Anger ran through Harry's veins and pooled in his chest, making it hard to breath.  He had to find some way to get it outside of him.  He had to get Sirius outside of him, even if it meant ripping the memory of his godfather out by its bleeding roots.

Emerald eyes jumped from item to item until a glint of metal caught their attention.  Sirius' dog tags…  Harry ripped the silver from the box and glared at them.  

Before he could pitch the tags into the fire, however, Hermione snatched them from his hands.  "Stop it, Harry!  Stop this!" 

"No," Harry growled, making a half-hearted attempt for Hermione's hands.  She pulled them in closer to chest.  "You don't understand!" Harry howled, slamming his fists into his thighs.

Hermione winced, turning away from Harry.  "I understand you're upset."  Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to find the nerve to stand up to Harry's madness.  She looked down at the chain dangling from between her fingers before continuing.  "I understand, Harry, I really do.  But do you want to destroy every memory you've ever had of him?"

Instead of responding, Harry reached desperately into the box, looking for something else to throw into the fire.  Fingers brushed over cloth, paper, leather…  Every object was loaded with unwanted sentimentality.  Rage welling up inside of him, Harry did the only thing he could think to do.  

Ron winced as the box flew through the air, slamming into the stone wall; its contents scattered across the floor.  Something broke with a mocking tinkle.  Ron looked down at the book that had slid to a stop at his shoe.

"He ruins everything!  Everything!"  Harry turned to glare at his friends, daring them to tell him otherwise.  "He doesn't do anything right!  I'm better off without him!"  Harry buried his face in his hands, snaking his fingers through his unkempt hair.

Silence pervaded the room like a cancer, broken only occasionally by the snap of the fire and the mournful hum of the wind through a boarded window.

Ron jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Like water, Remus had appeared in the room without noise.  When he reached the distraught boy, he kneeled down, picking up one of Sirius' sweaters.

"Harry."

"He can't do anything!" Harry seethed again.  "He goes off like an idiot to kill Peter and gets himself thrown into Azkaban.  Instead of living with him, I had to endure hell at the Dursley's.  This entire year, he stayed here while I had to go through everything with Umbridge and Voldemort...  All he ever does is mope around the house and it's not fair because I need him!  He's supposed to be my godfather!"

Remus' response was slow, thoughtful.  "You sound like he did."

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.  "Don't say 'did'," he hissed.

Remus shook his head, his thumb running across the soft fleece in his hands.  "For a while, that's all he'd ever really talk about.  He tried to joke about his bad timing, but it always came out so… haunted."

Remus settled into a sitting position, turning to look at Harry.  Green eyes met him with uncertainty and anger.  In response, Lupin looked down and began to meticulously fold the sweater in his lap.  "He talked about it all the time. About showing up just in time to watch James and Lily's house burning, Hagrid ready to take you to Dumbledore.  About showing up at the very end of your third year, but being unable to take you in.  About being forced to stay here with Buckbeak instead of being able to accompany you."

Harry's eyes shifted back to the fire, but Remus continued.  "Harry, he didn't try to leave you.  He didn't want to leave you.  He just left too soon."  Remus continued to fidget, picking a few bits of fuzz off the bundle in his lap.

When he felt it appropriate, Remus stood up, taking Sirius' sweater with him.  He rested a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.  "Perpetual bad timing, that Sirius Black."  Harry flinched at the palpable emotion in that statement.  

Remus moved silently over to the box and began to pick up everything that belonged in it.  Ron turned back and forth between Lupin and Harry before bending over to grab the dog-eared journal at his feet.  Piece by piece, Sirius' items returned to the box.

Hermione scooted closer to Harry, tucking her legs underneath her.  "Harry?"

Harry's eyes stayed fixed upon the fire.  His mouth opened and closed wordlessly before he gave up trying to find language.  Hermione reached out and took his hand.  Very gently, she laid Sirius' dog tags in his empty palm.  

"He loved you, Harry.  Maybe more than anyone you've ever really known."

'I…  Just… I need to be alone," Harry whispered around the lump in his throat.  Hermione hesitated, but when Harry's fingers closed around the dog tags, she relented.

"Come on, Ron," she whispered, dusting the dirt off her knees.  "I hear your mom with the shopping."  

Harry turned back to the fire.  The cold metal in his hands slowly began to warm. Before he knew it, tears were running down his cheeks.  Childishly, he turned to make sure no one was in the room with him.  He couldn't bear to have them see him like this.  Not right now.

He sat there for what felt like hours, watching wanton shadows travel across the walls.  At one point, he could have sworn one of them looked almost canine.  When he turned around, however, no one was there.  "Why?" Harry whimpered.  "Why did you leave me?  Why now?"

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead against them.  "Everyone makes it out to be so easy, being me, the infamous Harry Potter.

"I can't do it alone anymore.  I don't want to do it alone anymore.  I needed you to be here for that."  The shadows moved rhythmically in response, dipping into the cracks and valleys on the wall.

"But you're gone.  You're not going to come back this time, are you?"  He paused, trying hard to wrap his mind around what he'd just said.  

"You're not coming back."

The only response was the dancing of the shadows in the wind.

_~fin~_


End file.
